


The Eleventh Door Down

by Iridian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iridian/pseuds/Iridian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re staying at a pet-friendly motel when your cat gets out of your room. You go searching for it and stumble upon Dean, a stranger you’ve never met before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eleventh Door Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first oneshot I’ve posted to any social media, really, so please feel free to give me your feedback! Constructive criticism is more than welcome.
> 
> I'd love to write a part 2 to this if it's requested!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr under the URL iridianuniverse and request a oneshot if you'd like to!

You call out for your missing cat in a whisper-tone, due to the late hour of the night. You’d rather not get a call about being too loud while most people are sleeping.

You’ve already knocked on over ten doors with no luck of finding your cat. You had left the motel room to make sure you had locked your car. When you returned, it was to the door you had accidentally left open, and your cat was gone.

Taking a deep breath and hoping this would be the room where you would find your cat, you raise your hand and knock on the next door down the line.

The door opens partway to reveal a man with tired-looking green eyes and scruff. His eyes study you as if he’s wary of you, but you think you see something of a glint in his eyes as he looks at you, and you can’t deny that he’s definitely on the more handsome end of the spectrum. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Y/N.” You introduce yourself, offering a smile to make yourself seem friendlier. “I’m looking for my cat.”

“Oh.” He says, lifting his eyebrows and opening the door the rest of the way and gesturing for you to enter the room. “You’re in luck.”

Curled up on one of two full size beds in the room is your cat. At the sight of it, relief floods through you. It stretches as you rush over to the bed and kneel in front of it to pet it. “Oh, thank God!”

“I saw it outside, figured I should let it into my room in case someone came looking.” He told you as he shut the door to the motel room.

“Thank you so much.” You told him gratefully, looking at him over your shoulder. “I’m sorry to be bothering you this late into the night.”

He went to sit down on the bed opposite from you and your cat and shook his head with a slight smile. “It’s not a problem, I’m happy to help.”

You smiled back and racked your brain for the name of this man who had practically saved the life of your cat. “I don’t think I ever got your name…”

“Oh, it’s, uh, Dean.” He replied, reaching a hand out toward you.

You took his hand and shook it with yours. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

Your attention was soon captured by the various books scattered around pretty much every open surface that wasn’t a bed. “Are you an insane bookworm or something?” You asked jokingly.

He lets out a chuckle and glances around the room, as if taking in for the first time the amount of books he has out, and nods in understanding. “Nah,” he denies, sitting up straighter and flexing the muscles in his biceps.

You can’t help but grin in amusement. “Then I assume there’s another explanation?”

“They’re my brother Sammy’s books.” He explains. “He’s the scholar of the family.”

You nod in understanding. “So he's staying here, too? Where is he at…” Your eyes catch the digital clock on the nightstand. “Two fourteen in the morning?” You ask in surprise. You knew it was late, but you didn't think it was that late. 

“He, uh, actually left to go to another motel.” Dean tells you, scratching at the back of his neck and glancing at the floor. “Obviously, he didn't want to take the books with him.”

“Oh…” You want to ask if they had gotten into some sort of argument, but you don't really know Dean that well and you don't want to be invasive. Plus, it's pretty obvious that whatever happened to make Sammy leave wasn't of a friendly nature. “Well, I hope everything's okay.”

“It will be.” He assures you with a nod. “Sometimes we need to spend some time away from each other, just like all siblings.” 

You find yourself drawn toward this man that you've just met. Although you don't know him very well, he's been perfectly friendly to you, unlike many of the other people who you spoke to tonight while searching for your cat.

“Well, thank you for finding my cat and keeping it safe.” You stand up and gather your cat up in your arms. The small animal doesn't like this much, which is made obvious by the three long scratches it leaves on your forearm when it struggles to get away. “Ow, shit!” You exclaim before you can stop yourself. Seeing as you're not one to back down from a challenge, you go for the cat again. 

“Woah, hey,” Dean stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let's get you cleaned up before you try to face the beast again, alright?” You are once again taken aback by Dean’s kindness toward you. When you first met him, only a couple minutes ago, he seemed a little rough around the edges, but he continued to show that there was more to him.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. Dean seems amused by this as he turns to grab some bandages and antiseptic. Your eyes catch your cat, who is sitting proudly in the corner of the room. “I'm gonna kick your ass.” You mutter toward it and sit down on the bed. 

“Easy there, Jackie Chan.” Dean comments playfully from the bathroom. He returns to you with a wet, soapy washcloth and a first aid kit. He sets the first aid kit on the nightstand and sits down next to you. He takes your forearm in one of his hands and inspects it. “Looks like he got you pretty good.” 

You glance down at your arm and find that each long scratch is actually a pretty deep cut that bleeds moderately. 

“Must sting like a bitch.” He comments as he brings the soapy cloth up to your wound and dabs at it gently. 

You hiss inwardly through your teeth at the sudden rise in pain, but you try to sit still as Dean treats the wound. 

“Sorry.” He apologizes, looking at you and waiting to continue. You give him a nod and he goes on treating the wound. You close your eyes in order to deal with the pain. 

“So, why are you staying in this motel?” He asks you. 

“I'm in the process of moving.” You tell him, opening your eyes again and looking at the books. Most of the titles are in foreign languages, so you guess that Sammy must be bilingual. 

“Oh, yeah? Going somewhere bigger and better than your last place?” 

You give a small smile and chuckle softly. “Exactly the opposite, as fate would have it. I tend to move around a lot, so I usually live in small places.” 

“Sammy and I move around a lot too.” He gets up and rinses out the washcloth in the sink. He comes back over to you and opens the first aid kit. 

“Any particular reason why?”

He thinks about this and shrugs as he looks through the bandages. “We like to travel all over the country.” 

You have a feeling that there's more to it than that, but you decide not to pry. “Have you been to all the states?” 

“Most of them. Conveniently, we haven't visited the tropical states, and yet, I'm not opposed to piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.” He jokes, flashing a smile. He gently pats a large bandage down over the scratches on your arm. “Alright, you're all set.” He says and closes the first aid kit. 

“I can't thank you enough, Dean.” You stand up and lock eyes with your cat, giving him a warning glare. He meows in response to the look and lets you pick him up without a fight this time. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

He thinks on this for a few seconds and a soft smirk pulls one corner of his mouth up. “You could go out for drinks with me on Thursday night.” 

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise, fighting back a large grin. 

“I could pick you up, say…seven?” He offers. 

You nod slowly, pretending to think it over. “Alright.” You agree, heading toward the front door. “Oh, and when you do pick me up on Thursday, you'll want to go to room 304.” 

“Room 304, got it.” He opens the door for you and gives you one last smile. 

“Goodnight, Dean.” You step outside the motel room and turn to face him, returning his smile.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”


End file.
